Marigold Boffin from Bree
by just-dreams-nothing-more
Summary: Marigold didn't want to move to Hobbiton, and she doesn't want to work, but her mother has other ideas, which Marigold may be thankful for in the long run
1. Work? Me?

~*~*~*~*~* Marigold Boffin from Bree  
  
Sorry, I know this is an awful title, but I couldn't think of anything better.. I promise the story isn't such shoddy quality!  
  
Disclaimer- I don't own Lord of the Rings or any sort of things. I 'added' my main character in to her family name. and she defiantly aint mine, just like Frodo, Sam and Rosie belong to Tolkien too.  
  
Anyway, I'd appreciate any thoughts you have so far. I'm not sure if this would be hobbitish enough, but I am trying. please don't hurt me! ^_^  
  
Enjoy!  
  
"But mother, I don't want to!" exclaimed Marigold.  
  
"It isn't a case of whether or not you want to, it is simply a matter of you doing as I say," returned her mother, continuing her sewing. Marigold stared angrily into the fire for a while before she replied;  
  
"When we were back home, you never wanted me to work, why do I have to now?"  
  
"A lot of things are different now. Tomorrow you will get up and go to work," answered her mother, pausing to cut the piece of wool she sewed with.  
  
"Why? Why can't I just stay here and look after Pea?" exclaimed Marigold. Her mothers' hands were trembling as she put her sewing down and glared at her daughter, speaking quietly but commandingly.  
  
"Because money isn't dug out of the ground. We do not have your father anymore, and you are old enough to help." Marigold looked away, knowing she would have to go now that her mother had brought that up.  
  
"Go to bed," said her mother, almost kindly, "you will need to be up early for work tomorrow; they expect you there in time for breakfast."  
  
"Yes mother," sighed Marigold, turning and leaving to go to bed, just as her mother had said. Opening the door, she saw that Peony was already in bed and sound asleep. Peony was still so young (only 10) and wasn't really Marigold's sister, but her niece. Peony had been living as part of the family after her mother, and Marigold's sister (Adelia) had died of the fever. That was when things had first started to go wrong.  
  
Marigold sighed and quickly got changed into her nightgown, slipping under the sheets. Reaching under her bed, she pulled out a small leather-bound book, a quill and ink. Dipping her pen, she began to write;  
  
My mother has just told me that I am to work. Work as a maid, what's more. I don't know why she has decided this now; she was content for me to stay at home and look after Pea back home in Bree. As soon as we moved here, she's been different. I think she has a plan, for us, but I do not yet know what it is. I don't like Hobbiton, it's changing her more, and this hole is smaller than our old one. Everything is wrong; I don't want to be here. I-  
  
Here, Marigold stopped. "I wish father were here," she whispered aloud. He was the one who had always spoilt her; he was the one who loved her best. When her father had still been alive, her mother had been more content to be what she was. Of course, Marigold's mother had always wanted to be higher on the social side of things, but it had gotten so much worse since her fathers passing.  
  
Now they had moved out here, to Hobbiton to be with her mother's side of the family, and now, Marigold had to have a job. "Just go to sleep, you have to work tomorrow," Marigold scolded herself. She turned on her side and stared at the wall for a long while, before her lids closed wearily and she drifted off into slumber. __________________________________________________  
  
Authour's note; The first names are taken from the family trees at the end of the books. I know that Marigold probably couldn't write, but there are explanations, just not yet!  
  
Also, would you be wanting background on Marigold? 


	2. Warnings

~*~*~*~*~*Warning  
  
**** Chapter 2 people. I know this is going a little slowly, but I'm working between exams *hangs head in shame*  
  
Anway, tell me if you think anything needs messing with  
  
***  
  
"Come on, get up!" Marigold rolled over to find her mother standing with a candle in her hand shaking her roughly.  
  
"I'm awake, don't worry," hissed Marigold, pulling back the covers and pulling on a dressing gown.  
  
"Good, now remember, you have to be off as soon as possible," replied her mother, turning and pattering out of the room.  
  
"Oh, she gets to go back to bed," moaned Marigold as she stood up.  
  
Within a matter of minutes, Marigold had got herself dressed, into her favourite green dress. She ran a comb through her light brown hair as quickly as possible, deciding only to get rid of the biggest knots.  
  
Peeping into her mothers room, she saw (and heard) that her mother had gone back to sleep. Sighing, she picked up some bread and walked out of the red front door, pulling on her shawl, and shivering slightly.  
  
The sun had not been up long, and the whole world was still a little grey and quite cold. Marigold, remembering what she had seen of Hobbiton in the short time she had been here began to find her way up to the market, where people were already setting up the stalls for the day. Here, Marigold paused as she tried to remember the rest of the way.  
  
"You look a little lost," remarked a nearby stall owner, a smiling, elderly hobbit.  
  
"I am a little; would you please be able to tell me how to get to Bag End?" Marigold replied, smiling at the old man who was sorting out the produce.  
  
"Bag End? Why are you going up that way?" he returned, now looking slightly suspicious.  
  
"Oh, I," Marigold felt ashamed to say it, "I'm meant to be the new maid." The man narrowed his eyes and put down the tomatoes he had been sorting.  
  
"Now listen, I'll tell you, but just remember, Bag End isn't normal. You just watch yourself lassie," he said in a low voice, leaning over the stall to make sure Marigold heard him clearly. "What do you mean?" exclaimed Marigold, wondering what her mother had gotten her into. What kind of people was she meant to be working for?  
  
But the old man would not answer. He simply gave her the directions and sent her on her way. Marigold hadn't been too happy about going, but now she was fighting the urge to run back home, and tell her mother that she couldn't possibly work for the folk at Bag End. What were they going to be like? Perhaps they would treat her like a slave. Surely her mother would accept that?  
  
Marigold was now at the gate of Bag End, looking into the garden and considering. She thought of what her mother would say if she went home now.  
  
"You can't go home now; you'll get into such awful trouble," she said to herself, "Perhaps if you go for the day, then you can just not come back, and you won't be in such trouble." Marigold nodded to herself, surprised at her own logic.  
  
She gently pushed open the gate and stepped inside, taking the little steps, and admiring the well kept garden, filled with ageing flowers. Everything was neat and well tended too, but Marigold still wondered at what the people behind the garden would be like. Presently, she was outside the green door, her hand hovering.  
  
Taking a deep breath, prepared for the worst, Marigold knocked on the door three times.  
  
****  
  
A/N that may have been random but there was a point! 


End file.
